|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Bureaucracy by Honore de Balzac:
beauty seemed to him miraculous and whom he very seldom saw, left him
little at her death; but she had given him that too common and
incomplete education which produces so much ambition and so little
ability. A few days before his mother's death, when he was just
sixteen, he left the Lycee Napoleon to enter as supernumerary a
government office, where an unknown protector had provided him with a
place. At twenty-two years of age Rabourdin became under-head-clerk;
at twenty-five, head-clerk, or, as it was termed, head of the bureau.
From that day the hand that assisted the young man to start in life
was never felt again in his career, except as to a single
circumstance; it led him, poor and friendless, to the house of a
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from King James Bible:
GEN 17:11 And ye shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskin; and it
shall be a token of the covenant betwixt me and you.
GEN 17:12 And he that is eight days old shall be circumcised among you,
every man child in your generations, he that is born in the house, or
bought with money of any stranger, which is not of thy seed.
GEN 17:13 He that is born in thy house, and he that is bought with thy
money, must needs be circumcised: and my covenant shall be in your flesh
for an everlasting covenant.
GEN 17:14 And the uncircumcised man child whose flesh of his foreskin
is not circumcised, that soul shall be cut off from his people; he hath
broken my covenant.
King James Bible
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Tanglewood Tales by Nathaniel Hawthorne:
Proserpina seized the large shrub with the other, and pulled,
and pulled, but was hardly able to loosen the soil about its
roots. What a deep-rooted plant it was! Again the girl pulled
with all her might, and observed that the earth began to stir
and crack to some distance around the stem. She gave another
pull, but relaxed her hold, fancying that there was a rumbling
sound right beneath her feet. Did the roots extend down into
some enchanted cavern? Then laughing at herself for so childish
a notion, she made another effort: up came the shrub, and
Proserpina staggered back, holding the stem triumphantly in her
hand, and gazing at the deep hole which its roots had left in